


Broken Together

by Wolfcry22



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Anxiety Disorder, Dean Winchester Has Broken Bones, Dean Winchester Whump, Flashbacks, Fluff and Angst, Gen, Hell Trauma, Hurt Dean Winchester, Hurt/Comfort, Panic Attacks, Post Hell, Post Hell Sam Winchester, Post-Lucifer’s Cage Sam Winchester, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Protective Bobby Singer, Protective Dean Winchester, Sensory Processing Disorder, Sick Dean Winchester, Sick Sam Winchester, Sneezing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-19
Updated: 2020-05-19
Packaged: 2021-03-03 00:22:14
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,323
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24265813
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Wolfcry22/pseuds/Wolfcry22
Summary: Sam's wall has been broken and the hallucinations of Lucifer and Hell are only getting worse. He doesn't want to tell Dean exactly how deep the terror and pain goes, so he tries to keep it to himself. However, after Dean gets out of the hospital with his broken leg he catches a terrible, sneezy cold. However, the sound of Dean sneezing terrifies Sam to death, causing him to have panic attacks and freak out.
Relationships: Dean Winchester & Sam Winchester
Comments: 2
Kudos: 64





	Broken Together

**Author's Note:**

> This is just a little something I wrote about how things may have gone in Rufus’s cabin after Dean breaks his leg and finds out about Sam seeing Lucifer. I’ve recently rewatched Supernatural and this part of the series always plays with my heartstring. I really wish they had done more with it, so I decided why not make it more interesting. Dean wants to try and help Sam only to find out that everything he does makes it worse.
> 
> There is a slight mess warning so if you don’t like that sort of thing this story may not be for you. It’s pointless fluff to help brighten your day. Mentions of PTSD and panic attacks are there as well. I hope you all enjoy!

Sam rocked back and forth on the chair at Rufus's house. The feet of the chair scuffed against the ground, letting out a sound like nails on a chalkboard. He gulped periodically as his head swivels around in terror. His hair obstructs his vision a bit, which is fine by him. He narrows his eyes at the nothingness around him, praying that he won't have any hallucinations today. He knows that it's a thankless thought. Lucifer is always playing games with him, especially when he least expects it.

He's so lost in thought that he doesn't even notice Dean limp into the room with his crutches shoved under his arms. He doesn't hear the metallic thud of the crutches or the grunts that Dean emits in frustration.  
  
Dean looks at his brother quizzically when he doesn't even acknowledge him. He heads right over to the counter and starts to make himself a cup of coffee. Sam doesn't say a word.

"Good morning, Sam," Dean bellows as he tries to distract his brother from whatever crap was in his head.

Sam jolted slightly as he lifted his hand and pressed against the small wound on his other hand. Sam bears down until he feels blood threatening to seep from the freshly stitched up gash. He looked up to Dean and smiled. "H-Hi," he stammered. 

Dean lifted a cup of coffee. “Want a cup?"

Sam shook his head and frowned. "No, I'm good."  
  
Dean doesn't say anything since pressing Sam usually gets him nowhere. Any little thing can set him off and his hallucinations continue to grow stronger. Dean doubted that he could do much more for his brother, especially in his condition, but by God he'll try.

That's when Dean starts to notice it. He detects the slight itch in his sinuses, the dull throb in his head behind his temples, the pain in his throat when swallowing that feels as though sandpaper had been shoved down it, and the slight uncomfortableness that prickles over his skin as if signaling something foreboding to come. He inwardly curses himself. If he's getting sick, then things could only get worse.

"Hey Sam, maybe today you'd want to make a supply run or something," Dean suggested, praying that he could get Sam out of the house for something so that he could be sick in peace for as long as possible. 

Sam tilted his head quizzically. "Bobby already went out today. I don't think we need anything," he pointed out.  
  
Dean lifted a hand and squeezed the bridge of his nose in frustration. "Of course he did."

Suddenly, Dean felt the all too familiar itch in the back of his sinuses that quickly traveled all the way to the tip of his now twitching nose. He lifted a hand and wriggled his nose back and forth, sucking in hitching breaths as he did so. His sneezes were never quiet, just like Sam's. They were loud, commanding, and embarrassing at times. He usually didn't care, but he had no idea how a jumpy Sam was going to take it. After all, this was the man who had jumped when Dean set down a dinner plate too loud.

He couldn't hold it back anymore. He prayed for the best.

"Eh'Htchxhsshsh!"

That was it. Sam jumped up and stepped back, the chair crumpling behind him. Sam raised his hands over his ears before he started to pull at his hair roughly. He looked around in terror with tears pricking in the corners of his eyes. Suddenly, he dropped. The mammoth of a man drew his knees up to his chest and started to rock back and forth, making nosies that Dean couldn't make out.

Dean immediately set down the coffee cup and used his crutches to hobble over to Sam. He set the crutches down, propped against the table, and maneuvered himself as well as he possibly could down to the floor. He sat in front of Sam, who was still tucked under the table in fear. Dean’s broken leg sprawled at a very awkward and uncomfortable angle in front of him as he fought to remain upright. He stretched out his hands and tried to grab Sam's shoulders. 

"No!" 

Sam twisted and tried to push him away, panting in terror. He looked at Dean like he was an enemy as he gritted his teeth with rage showing in his eyes.

"Sam. Sammy, look at me," Dean chided as he grabbed Sam's shoulders so hard that Sam couldn't wriggle free. "It's okay. It was just a sneeze." 

Sam licked his lips as he struggled to meet his brother's piercing gaze. His back arched against the wall, but Dean's weight held him down. "A.....sneeze," asked Sam with a small tilt of his head, his hair falling into his eyes.

Dean stretched out a shaking hand and tucked Sam's hair behind his ears. "Yeah, buddy. I think I might have caught a cold or something. I sneezed."

Sam still seemed more on edge then Dean would've liked. He managed a small nod, yet his hands still wrung against themselves. Dean didn’t have to be an expert on Sam to know that it was a nervous tic. "O-Okay," Sam whispered.

Dean lifted his hands from Sam's shoulders and reached to grab the crutches. He shoved them under his armpits and hauled himself to standing position. He reached out a hand for Sam to help him, but Sam didn't take it. He continued to stare forward with a glazed expression on his face and Dean wondered just who or what Sam was seeing.

Dean turned back to his cup of coffee and managed to drink a few sips with only a few feeble coughs. They weren't nearly as loud as his sneezes and Sam only flinched when they happened instead of cowering like before.

By the time Dean brought over the cereal, milk, bowls, and spoons for their breakfast; Sam managed to haul himself onto a chair and sit there. He shifted uncomfortably, but he didn't flee.

"Hungry," Dean asked as he plopped down across from Sam. "Because I'm starving!"

Sam didn't say anything, but he did dump some cereal in the bowl and ate it without milk. Dean shrugged. Somethings that Sam did now he hadn't done before. Dean learned just to roll with it instead of calling Sam out. That just made things worse.

"Eh'htschsxxshsh!"

Dean tried to make this one quieter, but it snuck up on him. That automatically sent Sam into a panic.

As soon as Dean opened his eyes from the sneeze he saw Sam shaking and cowering under the table once again. His hands were back over his ears and he was rocking back and forth, trying to calm himself down by rubbing small circles against his head and pulling his hair.

"Dabn," Dean swore as congestion started to make his words softer. He rubbed a hand against the side of his face before he realized that it would be best if he could just blow his nose. Unfortunately, he was pretty sure that Sam wouldn't respond well to that noise either if a sneeze bothered him.

"Sab," Dean began as he grabbed onto the edge of the chair and slowly eased himself down. His broken leg screeched slightly against the ground and he felt slight tremors rush up his bones. Dean gritted his teeth in pain before he continued to slump down. He sat down heavily and let out a breath of relief. "Sab."

Dean frowned as he watched his little brother mutter under his breath and continue to shake. He pulled at his hair and rocked back and forth. He looked around madly, eyes wide, before glancing over to Dean and the only thing that showed on his face was pure terror. There had been a time when it had only been admiration for his brother, and now it was just fear. Dean wished he could do something about it, but he knew that since Sam got back from Hell that it would never be the same. 

"Sab, it's okay," Dean chided as he stretched out a hand and rested it on Sam's shoulder. Sam shrugged it off harshly and continued to push himself backwards, almost gagging as he breathed. "Okay, maybe nodt."

Dean sniffed back the running congestion. He noticed how freaked out Sam still was and knew that he had to calm him. "Sab, it was a sneeze. Ib sorry. I candt helb id." Dean snuffed back the congestion again. "Id's okay."

Sam whimpered as he spun his head to look at his brother with tears brimming in his eyes. "I'm okay," he whimpered.

Dean didn't believe it for a second, but he had to fake it for Sam's sake. He smiled at him and sighed heavily. "C'mon. Let's gedt you oud frob under the table. Do you wand to watch sobe TV?" 

Sam nodded slowly and Dean smiled in relief. A softer tone was always best with Sam. Dean had researched what to do and how to speak to those with PTSD and other conditions like it. He researched some treatments for schizophrenia and autism therapy as well. He tried putting them all together as much as possible while he learned how to care for his struggling little brother.

Sam eventually crawled out from under the table and made his way to the couch in the living room extremely slowly. Dean watched him out of the corner of his eye before he felt the familiar prickle like a million tiny feathers tickling the inside of his nasal passages.

"Oh doh," Dean panted as he sat under the table. He grabbed the chair and tried to pull himself up. The chair skidded away and Dean shrugged his shoulders, his breath continuing to hitch as he tried to hold it off. "Eh....huh....hih....."

Dean suddenly reached up around the table and grabbed the napkin that he had set there earlier. He rushed to thrust it over his face to contain the mess. 

"Hih'htchshUuU!"

Dean ducked forward into the napkin, blowing his nose to empty the liquid that just kept flowing from the depths of his nasal passages. He gasped once he was finished and continued to wipe the moisture around from his nose. Once he was finished he crumpled the tissue up and set it on the table. He let out a sigh of relief before he heard Sam's self coping mechanisms. He was mumbling to himself and bracing himself against the couch once more.

Dean rolled his eyes. "Damn it!" He turned his head and looked at the back of the couch where the back of Sam's shaking head was visible. "Sam! Sam, come on. I need your help. Sammy!"

Sam continued to rock back and forth as he mumbled to himself. He blinked his eyes madly as he looked around as if he could see Lucifer or the rest of the hallucinations of Hell all around him. Sam whimpered and crumpled down. "D-Dean," he whispered so low that Dean barely heard. 

Dean sighed as he lowered down on his stomach and dragged himself forward. His broken leg dragged uselessly behind him as he forced himself to the couch. When he finally made it, he sat right in front of it. He braced his hands backwards on the couch cushions and pulled himself up. He sat down on the couch with a sigh as exhaustion washed over him. He never thought that he would see the day when it would be so hard to make it to the damn couch.

"Sammy," Dean whispered as he looked at his brother. "Sammy, look at me. I can't help you if you don't tell me what's wrong. You have to let me help you."

Tears showed in the corner of Sam's eyes as he looked at his brother. "Dean. Dean," whimpered Sam as if he was questioning that the person in front of him with a broken leg was actually his brother.

"It's me, Sammy," Dean replied as he slid closer to Sam.

Sam drew his knees to his chest and Dean lifted his hands, automatically backing off. "Okay, we'll start off slow. First stone, right? Build on that. Baby steps. Do you remember me saying that," Dean asked quietly.

Sam loosened the grip he had on his legs and allowed them to stretch out. "Yes, I do," he croaked.

"I'm sorry that I scared you, Sammy," Dean apologized as he frowned at his brother. "It's just that I think I'm coming down with something and I can't help it. When I get sick I sneeze a lot, Sam, you know that."

Sam looked down at his hands, which were interlocked together so hard that Dean was sure that he was loosing circulation in at least a few of his fingers. "I know. I'm sorry," he rasped.

"You don't have to be sorry about it. I'm just sorry that it scares you so much." Dean gritted his teeth against his bottom lip. The familiar tickle was back and Dean knew that even after he explained it to Sam he would be off the walls afraid of it. "Sam....I'm going to....huh......"  
  
Sam looked over to him and his eyes flickered as if he couldn't even figure out what Dean was trying to do. He tilted his head as Dean tried to stay as far away from him as possible. This one was going to be a doozy and he just knew that Sam was going to freak out and there was nothing that he could do about it.

"Huh'Hetchshxhshoo!"

As predicted, Sam darted. He gasped in surprise as he jumped from the couch with his arms lifted before he pressed his hands against his head and pulled so hard at his hair that clumps came out. He started to dig into his head with his nails as he looked around for somewhere to hide. 

Dean, with one hand clamped over the lower half of his face to catch the milky, sticky substance that leaked from his nose, looked over at his still standing and shaking brother. "Sabby."

It was too late. Sam rushed through Rufus's house until he ran into one of the bedrooms. He slammed the door behind him, so Dean could only guess what he was doing. He guessed that he was probably in the corner, shaking and moaning and he would stay that way until Dean could calm him down. That was the only way that Sam could calm down and that was if Dean was there. Dean couldn't be there right now with his broken leg or miserable head cold. He felt like he had failed as a brother yet again.

Right now he had other problems. His latest sneeze had caused an unbelievable amount of mucus to stream from his right nostril. It continued to flow and Dean had nothing to mop it up with and he couldn't just get up and get himself something. His crutches were by the table and he was not about to crawl through the entire house looking for a napkin or tissues. For now he would have to stay where he was until Bobby came home with the supplies.

However, now that Sam was already in the middle of a pretty intense panic attack and Dean couldn't get him out of it, he might as well sneeze as much as he wanted to now. It wasn't like things could get any worse.

"Huh'Hitchxhshshoo! Hetchshsxhh! Heh'Hitcxshoo!"

Once Dean was finished his hand was still cupped over his face and that was where it was going to stay. He sighed as he thought of one more thing.

"Sabby! Do you think you could bring be sobe tissues," Dean called hopefully.

The only response he got was now Sam's yelling. "Leave me alone! I won't do that! Don't! No!"

Dean tried to block it out as much as possible. He closed his eyes and laid sideways on the couch as a miserable moan left his lips. "Oh, Sabby," Dean sighed with tears in his own eyes. "Whadt have we done to you?"

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

It was almost half an hour later before the door opened and Bobby stepped forward. He raised an eyebrow at Dean's slumped figure on the couch and set the bags down on the floor before he walked over to him. He saw that Dean’s hand was cupped over his face and he sighed heavily.

"Dean. Dean!" He nudged Dean's shoulder firmly. Dean gasped in surprise he sat upright, bringing his hand away from his face. Bobby grimaced at the mucus still streaming from his nose. "What happened to you, sicky?"

Dean grumbled as he lifted his hand over his face once more. "Oh, Bobby, sorry," coughed Dean as he leaned forward, more mucus flowing freely from his nostrils.

Bobby swore under his breath before he tossed Dean a bandanna had had tucked in his pocket. "Here. Clean yourself up," Bobby instructed with a roll of his eyes. "Idgit!"

A flush rose to Dean's cheeks. "Thanks for that," he grumbled as he mopped up his face. "I asked Sam to help me and get me more tissues, but he's freaked out about my sneezes."

Bobby chuckled. "What?"

"Every time I sneeze he freaks out and has one of his panic attacks or whatever. Every time I talk to him and calm him down I sneeze again and we're back to square one," Dean sighed in exasperation.

Suddenly, in the small silence that Bobby gave him, the sound of coughing came from the back room. Both Dean and Bobby twisted to listen before the coughing turned into a giant sneeze.

"Eh'HuxhsHOO!"

"That's Sam," Dean breathed in surprise as he looked at Bobby.

Bobby tipped his head. "Looks like you're not the only one who doesn't feel well."

Dean looked down and worked his hands together as he sighed heavily. "Maybe you should talk to him. I'll just sneeze and scare him again."

Bobby grumbled in frustration as he sat next to Dean on the couch and looked at him up and down. "I've known you for a long time, Dean. I know how much you care for your brother and how much you practically raised him. Now, I also know that these past few weeks haven't been easy for either one of you. But, I also know that you would still do anything for him. Just go and talk to him. Maybe you two can work something out better now."

"He's not Sam, Bobby," Dean confessed darkly.

"He might not be the Sam that you're used to, but you may have to accept that this is the new Sam. It's about time you learned how to truly deal," Bobby shrugged as he rose up from the couch and disappeared back into the kitchen. He returned a minute later with Dean's crutches and a box of tissues.

Dean took the tissues gratefully as he pulled a handful out to blow his nose. “How did you know,” questioned Dean. 

Bobby shrugged. "You were snoring in your sleep last night."

Dean smiled as he took his crutches and the box of tissues and held them tight. "Thanks, Bobby."

"Don't mention it. Now, go take care of that brother of yours," Bobby instructed sternly.

Dean hauled himself to his feet and hobbled over to the bedroom that Sam had claimed as his. Dean had been sleeping on the couch and Bobby in the spare bedroom. Usually no one came into Sam's room since it was his safest place in the house, but right now they were going to break the rules. 

"Sam, can I come in," Dean asked as he knocked his hand agains the door hopefully. The sound that greeted him was low moaning. 

After what felt like a lifetime Sam finally answered. “Y-Yes," he croaked.

Dean forced the door open and hopped in before he closed the door behind him. This was just between him and Sam. They would work this out together just like they had worked out everything else. It just seemed a hell of a lot harder now.

"Can I come over to you," Dean asked hopefully, leaning forward on his crutches. "It's a little hard to stand with these. It's pretty uncomfortable."

Sam actually smiled, partially. "Yeah, go ahead."

Dean hopped forward. Sam was pushed into a corner and the bed was a few feet beside him against the wall. There would be just enough room for Dean to squeeze between Sam and the bed, but their shoulders would be touching. Sam wasn't good with touch yet, but they were working on it. This would be a good test.

"I'm just going to sit beside you, okay, Sammy," Dean asked as he kneeled on the floor and set the crutches beside the bed while he continued to hold box of tissues. He plopped down beside Sam and sighed heavily, showing him the tissues.

Sam just looked at them before he drew his knees to his chest and almost started to panic. "Woah, woah, I haven't even done anything yet." Dean took in a deep breath. "See? I haven't sneezed."

"Hutxshtshoo!"

Dean nodded knowingly as Sam sneezed. That was enough to send him into a panic. He cried out with his hands pulling at his long hair once again. Dean suddenly reached out against Sam's wishes and pulled his hands away from his hair. He braced his broke leg over Sam's knees to force them to stretch out straight in front of him. Sam continued to whimper, but at least he was looking at Dean now.

"It's okay. You just sneezed this time, Sammy," Dean told him, trying not to laugh. "Bless you."

Sam shook his head as a thin stream of milky mucus rolled from his nostrils. He seemed to be oblivious to his runny nose and he continued to allow it to run down to his upper lip. He looked at Dean with round eyes as Dean released his hands. Sam didn’t move. 

Dean said nothing as he took a tissue from the box and used it to gingerly wipe at Sam's nose for him. He hadn't done this since Sam was about five or six, but there was no use in joking about it now. Sam would never open up to him if he made fun of him. This was going to be something they wouldn’t speak about ever again.

It wsn't but five seconds later before Dean felt his nose start to rebel. He rolled his eyes as he grabbed five tissues and tried to smother the sound. 

"Hetchxhshhhh!"

The sound was indeed quieter, but Sam still didn't care for it. He didn't lapse into a total panic attack, but he did scoot away from Dean as much as possible and start to rock and mumble to himself. Dean looked at him and frowned. "Sammy, I-"

"Bless you," Sam interrupted as he fumbled on the words with teary eyes turned to the ceiling. "Bless you."

Dean nodded slowly. "Thanks." He scratched at his chin uncomfortably. "You know, Sam, we're both sick and I'm sorry. I probably was the one to get you sick. I'm sorry about your hallucinations and how I can do nothing about it. I'm sorry for all of it. I would do anything for you, you know that." He sucked in a breath. "And if me being here makes you freak out then I can leave.”

Dean reached to grab his crutches, but Sam's hand shot out to block him. Dean turned to look at him and he saw the pleading look in his brother’s eyes. "Stay. Please. I-I'll try not to freak out. I'll sleep on the floor and-"

"Don't be ridiculous, Sammy. I know that you can't help it. And, to the second part we can sleep on the bed together. It's big enough for that and I don't want you out of my sight right now," Dean told him as he stretched out his hand to Sam's. "A little help."

Sam smiled like his old energetic and selfless self as he helped Dean stand while rubbing pathetically at his nose. "Bless you, Sammy."

"Hetchxhsh."

This time Sam didn't shake, Sam didn't scream, and Sam didn't rock back and froth. He gave his head a small shake, sniffed back the congestion and helped set Dean up on the bed. Dean laid on his back while Sam climbed on the other side before falling onto his side. Sam’s head lolled to the side as he looked up at his ceiling as the darkness started to show outside. Dean did the same, both brothers lost in thought.

It wasn't long before Sam's open mouth congested breathing started to fill the entire room. Dean looked over and saw that Sam's nose started to run again. He reached into the box between them and pulled a few tissues clean. He didn’t hesitate to ginger clean up Sam's nose again with the gentlest touch he could manage. Sam didn't even stir. He crumpled the tissue up and threw it at the end of the bed. He would worry about cleaning it up later. 

Dean then laid back and sighed. "I promise that I'm going to fix this, Sammy. I'm going to make this better, I promise." His eyelids started to get heavy as he thought about just what had happened to Sam. He knew that it could happen since everyone had warned him. It wasn’t simple to come back from the Cage with no repercussions. But, Dean thought that he could go through anything with Sam. Now he saw what had happened when that theory was tested. He had a brother who was so broken inside that he had panic attacks when someone sneezed, even himself. However, he would take this Sam over not having him at all. After all, a Hell cursed brother was better than no brother at all.

**Author's Note:**

> I hope everyone liked this story! It was just a little something since I love writing about Dean being an awesome brother to Sam. It just melts my heart. There’s nothing better than some Dean and Sam tooth rotting fluff. Thanks to everyone who read this story and I hope you all are staying safe and healthy during this difficult time!


End file.
